On Top of the World!

Leaving Granada was difficult as it had captured our hearts and we could not imagine anywhere else so bewitching. From Granada we drove to Sevilla which, in comparison, felt enormous. There was a magnificence about this city with its wide streets, its "all sort" architecture, ranging from Visigothic, Roman, Moorish to modern day. At that time, I had no idea that several years later, I would actually choose Sevilla as a research topic for my A Level Spanish. For now, I simply indulged in its splendour. I had never seen normal city streets lined with orange trees, so short that I could have picked the oranges. Lord Byron had said about this Andalusian capital, "Seville is a pleasant city, famous for its oranges and women." I could see what he meant. Every calle, avenida and plaza had its fair share of oranges and the gentle aroma of this citrus fruit penetrated every walk of life. As for the women, well I certainly kept my eye on Ketan... just his type... dark skinned, with beautiful brown eyes and often jet black, flowing hair... he was in heaven... surrounded by these Hispanic beauties! Sevilla was an overflowing fountain of history with stunning monuments: the 16th century Cathedral of Santa Maria built on the former Mosque, the third largest in the world; the Giralda (originally a Minaret and now a bell tower); La Torre del Oro (the Golden Tower) and Plaza de España ... everywhere you looked, you could see the fusion of bygone cultures coming together with an amazing synchronicity. However, If I am honest, I didn't appreciate the sophistication of Sevilla as immediately as I had been impressed by the greatness of Granada. I misunderstood Sevilla in almost the same way tha Mr Darcy misunderstood Miss Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice, at their first meeting. It took me three visits and a research study nine years later to truly recognise its uniqueness and abundance of offerings to visitors and dwellers alike.

From Sevilla we made our way to Ronda without a clue about the next natural Hispanic haven that we were about to enter. We had never holidayed like this before: everything was unplanned and we had no idea where we were going or staying until we got to the next destination and this surprise element made the trip even more exciting. If there was one city which totally blew me away... it was Ronda. It has to be one of Spain's most exquisite creations, perched like a precious peacock on a precipice. Surrounded by mountains and 750 metres above sea level, the city straddles the river Guadalevin which cuts it in half and creates a 100 metre canyon, El Tajo, on which the city balances like a trapeze artist on a tight rope. Inside the city walls, you feel as if you are being carried away into the archives of history, with its three bridges Old, New and Roman and there is nothing new about the New Bridge as it was built back in the 18th Century! Ronda boasts history with the oldest bull ring where the Spanish tradition of taunting the Toro all began and with its Arab baths which date as far back as the 13th century. As we ambled through the gardens of the Palace of the Moorish King, with its aromatic herbs and trailing jasmine, we forgot we were in the 21st century. It was here, in this enchanting city, we sampled our first vegetarian paella... the Spanish Biryani without the spice!

We left Ronda, as if we were leaving the moon after a maiden visit... we had found something so incredible which we wanted to further explore but Cadiz was calling... it was time to move on to our next destination; but one day we would return to this monumental mountain metropolis and further explore its rich history and culture. For now, as the Spanish would say: Hasta La Proxima!

Another Day In Paradise

Mark Eveleigh a photo journalist described Granada as "an African paradise set under the Sierras like a rose preserved in snow’ and maybe it was the African in me that made me warm to this Moorish City within minutes of being there . Since this, our first trip, we have been back a number of times but never felt as mesmerised as we were on this virgin visit. As with Pitres we had not booked a hotel in advance, so our first challenge was to find somewhere cosy and economical to stay. Again with lady luck on our side, we found a quaint little pension in a side street behind the famous La Alhambra palace. The pension was tucked away and almost hidden like a precious jewel amongst restaurants and coffee shops. Our room was traditionally but pleasantly furnished and very spacious and the best feature was a tiny terrace garden which we had all to ourselves and we could access from our bedroom. It was full of brightly painted ceramic pots which had scarlet red geraniums, orange hibiscus and other pretty potted plants . In the evening a most seductive aroma would waft into the bedroom bewitching, hypnotic and alluringly aphrodisiacal... it was the essence of Jasmine. I could see now why this was one of Spain´s most romantic cities. If you need to revive your love life, I strongly recommend a trip to Granada or failing that place a potted Jasmine plant strategically next to your bedside... it will work wonders!

Our pensión was a stone's throw away from La Alhambra, the 13th century muslim medina majestically overlooking the city and its people. A visit to Granada is simply incomplete without a visit to this iconic, islamic palace: like a visit to Agra without seeing the Taj Mahal! However little did we know, on our first visit that getting into it would more difficult than penetrating the Bank of España! We casually wandered up through the palatial gardens, thinking of the wonders that we were about to witness only to find ourselves joining a long and winding queue. Obediently we joined this and waited and waited and waited and after a couple of hours, having moved a few inches, a guard came out and told us that no more people could enter the palace today and we would have to return tomorrow. Disappointed and drained in the heat of the August sun, we returned to the city. Totally by default, whilst standing in yet another queue in the bank, we found out that we could buy tickets for the Alhambra from here hence reducing our wait in the queue so we bought the tickets and the next morning, we were almost fast tracked into the Palace! All the waiting and frustration had paid off: the Andalusian architecture, the Islamic scriptures on the walls: solamente Alá vence - only Allah wins, the flowing fountains and carefully cultivated gardens were enchanting. We felt like we were being transported back to the days of Mohammed Ben Nazar, the Muslim conqueror. La Alhambra was magical and with its wondrous vistas of the Sierra Nevada, I felt I was in paradise.

After our regal experience, we drifted into the Arabic quarter with row upon row of Moorish malls selling ethnic and oriental jewelry, eastern influenced lanterns and delicately designed rugs minus the jamon! Totally enveloped with a spiritual fragrance of incense sticks and decorated with the brightly coloured Asian artifacts, and I could have aimlessly meandered forever. Was there no end to what this city had to offer?

No!

Everyone knows Spain for its Flamenco and before leaving Granada we had the amazing opportunity to watch authentic flamenco by real gypsy (Gitana) queens in the old caves of the Sierra Nevada. The dark moreno skin, the large almond shaped eyes, the buxom women in their brightly bosom accentuated frilly frocks... bewitched us and not only was Ketan drooling but so was I. We never wanted this night to end and when it did, we dreamed of paradise, we dreamed of Granada.

Would You Like to Buy a Carpet or a Pork Chop?

At last we were on holiday; two whole weeks of being with Ket and Krish with sunshine and fresh air... if I wasn´t in cloud nine now, I soon would be. We drove from Malaga airport towards Andalucia and La Alpujarra (derived from Arabic, meaning the grass land). I had heard how breath taking this part of Spain was but had no idea just how much until we started climbing up what felt like a giant green helter skelter. As we ascended further up into mountains all we could see were luscious green olive trees, delicately divine almond trees and we could smell the fresh fragrant aroma of oranges. As we climbed higher, we left behind hustle and bustle of urban life and then with little if any warning, out popped a tiny mountain tavern where we stopped to have some refreshments. It was here, Ket fell for a popular Spanish dish, Patatas Bravas which when translated into English means brave potatoes because of the hot, spicy "picante" sauce poured generously on top of sauteed potatoes... an Indian man´s delight. Had my father lived to try them, he would have been hooked!

We were heading towards an Alpujarran town called Pitres which my boss had recommended to us because of its rustic and rugged character. We climbed higher, discovering Lanjaron where we made yet another pit stop. The air was fresher than we had ever breathed and it felt like we were moving ever closer to the topaz blue sky. We were quite amused in Lanjaron with the carpet shops that also sold huge legs of jamon (ham)! Gorgeous wool, embroidered carpets would be spread out around the shops and right above them, hanging down casually were these meaty legs. Had it not been for the fact that we were vegetarian, we would have simply been confused... why had we come in? Was it to be a rug or a pork chop?

The journey so far was incredible and we were gripped by the beauty surrounding us and our only concern was food. Would we veggies survive two weeks in this meat loving country? Would we find meat free dishes? Would the locals think we were mad? We arrived in Pitres and headed towards a recommended hotel, San Roque. Although only two stars, the antiquey rooms were spacious with white washed walls and beds were of old dark wood frames with deep mattresses and crispy, clean, creamy bedsheets. The staff were friendly despite our mutual lack of language skills and within minutes we were settled in our room. As we ventured out that evening the first thing we spotted was another one of these hybrid carpet come meat shops and we feared the meat feast that was going to lie ahead of us.

Coincidentally and totally unplanned, it was Pitres Fiesta weekend and the entire square was decorated brightly with lights and vibrantly coloured flags. There was music and dancing and all we could hear was a constant chatter, laughter and people simply being merry. With our first drink came a little plate with something we could not recognise and once established that it was meat free we ate it... and ordered another drink with the hope we would get another one of these "tapas". This may be the only veggie food we were getting that night!

The tasty tapas treats were appetisers and we were ready for a hearty vegetarian dinner but where we would get one of these, god only knew! Well if I had ever doubted the existence of god, then today would put an immediate end to that! As we wandered through the streets of Pitres, scrutinising restaurants and their menus exhibited outside, we were totally astounded to find not one but three vegetarian establishments offering some of the most mouthwatering meat free dishes! We were in heaven! We realised then that Spain was full of surprises and this was only just the beginning! We ate, drank, chatted, laughed and totally "fiestad" until the early hours just like the locals... this was the life... we couldn´t wait for what tomorrow would bring. Hasta Mañana!

The Start of a Secret Affair

Isn't it funny how things are sometimes just meant to be? I am a great believer in kismet that beautiful word with a mysterious meaning... like serendipity and déja vu, there is a sense of twilight and supernatural about it. I believe now we were destined for Spain...somewhere, in some heavenly, devine organiser, the forces that be rerouted our path to the the Iberian Peninsula. But did it just happen? Was it as simple as resigning from an amazing career and buying three one way tickets to Alicante? I look back and recollect... easy? No! but meant to be? Yes!

In 2002, we were living in Eldwick, an idyllic village in West Yorkshire with a beautiful house overlooking the Yorkshire Moors. The location was stunning with each season being so crisp and clearly recognisable... when the winter came the moors looked like nicely risen victoria sponges with a thick layer of icing sugar and when the summer dropped in, the landscape was as stunning as a treasure chest of emerald nuggets. With a location like this, good jobs and Krish in a great school, why would we want to move? At the time, we didn't want to move and we hadn't thought about something as big as emigrating to a new country since the mid 1990s when Ketan and I had been on the verge of applying to become Canadian citizens. At that time we had bought the books on a life in Canada and we had completed the application forms only to find ourselves in a dilemma. My father was seriously ill and the pressure on my family especially my mother was enormous so we decided that now was not the time to realise our dreams... now was the time to support our family and simply to be there. We thought that emigrating was a dim and distant dream which now would remain that way forever. After a bitter struggle with his health and a connoction of complications, my father sadly passed away in 1997 and I knew then that our decision had been the right one. The late 1990s were difficult ones for our families as no sooner had my father died, my niece, Hetal fell ill overnight with what turned out to be a terminal illness... her story is too melancholy to write in detail and one which remains with us forever. Sadly this beautiful, bubbly 18 year old who was at the starting line of life's race, cruelly never got to even set off... contracting a terminal illness, sadly dying in January 1999. These two losses in a short period of time, raised so many unanswerable questions in our heads...and over and over again we asked Why? Why? Why?

Then in the summer of 2001, we decided to take a holiday in Spain. We had never been there but my boss, a lover of Andalucia, had sold it to me and I in turn had convinced Ketan to book flights and a hire car. We would travel to Malaga and from there journey through the Alpujarras, explore the Moorish cities of Andalucia and coast through the Costa del Sol all the way to Cadiz and back. On a scale of one to ten, this I would say was 15! It was just incredible... the stunning topography, the warm and loveable locals, the eternally blue skies, the rich and vibrant culture... everything (except ofcourse the meaty cuisine) was perfect. We simply fell in love again and it felt like both Ketan and I were having a secret affair with the same person... she was called España!

This blog is dedicated to the late Rameshbhai Madhvani and the late Hetal Gandhi... God bless.

Ten Life Changing Questions

Here I am in my Villa in Spain (actually its what the Spanish call a bungalow even though it has two floors), embarking on this blog. Why? well around five and half years ago, my husband Ketan, my daughter Krisha and I decided to make a life changing move from the UK to Spain. It was one of the biggest decisions that Ketan and I had taken in our married life. Often today people ask us why we did it. People are intrigued that a relatively young couple (well we were in our late 30s when we moved) should sell their house, all their belongings and leave their jobs to move out to what is probably considered to be a top holiday destination for many Brits and a popular retirement hub, Spain. Well we hadn´t won the lottery so it wasn´t going to be an eternal holiday and we were definitely not ready to put our feet up and potter about in our Spanish terrace. I look back at our last few years in England and remember that life had become incredibly hectic with me working long hours and not spending any time with Krisha. When people talk about the rat race and being on a hamster wheel... well we felt we were in this eternal rodent race and riding a fast spinning and never ending wheel. Ketan not only worked hard but because of my long hours, he tended to do virtually everything for Krisha from picking and dropping her off at school to cooking all our meals... and I would eventually come home, eat and get into bed with my laptop. Then one day, we were driving down to my mum´s in Leicester and to kill time and boredom of the journey, Krisha asked me to answer ten questions about her from what her favourite band was to her least favourite food. As Krisha asked each question, I ummed and ahed and basically sank further into my seat as I struggled to answer. I didn´t get one single question right! Krisha was devastated that I knew so little if anything about her but little did she realise that I felt a million times worse than her. My eyes had been welling up as each question was fired at me and now at the end of this inquisition, my eyes were drowning in tears, somthing inside me was breaking into pieces, feeling like I was a failure... a total flop. For me that was a turning point, a recognition that something had to change drastically and that something was the way I was living my life. But how... how could I jump off that mad, giant feris wheel safely? Would I have an inbuilt parachute that would shoot out and steer me to a new land in one piece. It was time to rethink the future, revise my so called career plans and reroute the path of destiny.